by Becky Lower
“Umm. Uncle Walter’s usually in his study at this time of day. Don’t you wish to say hello to your sister first? She’s in the parlor.”
Her father glared at her. “Time enough for pleasantries later. Right now, I need to talk to Walter.”
“All right then. The study’s down the hall.” Pippa led him across the foyer to a closed door and knocked before she opened it. “Uncle Walter, look who just showed up!” She tried to infuse her words with some spunk, as if she were truly glad to see her father.
Five months short of her goal.
• ♥ •
Daniel spent the month of November getting his ship seaworthy again. The broken mast got replaced and the hold emptied out completely and cleaned. Emma joined him during the day as he worked on the Gladys Maria, playing pirate with any spare piece of wood remotely resembling a sword and in the evenings they bonded over stories, some made up on the spur of the moment, some from the books containing Emma’s favorite stories.
“Let’s read this one again, Papa.” Emma snuggled beside him. “It’s my favorite.”
Daniel took the book from her hands. Gulliver’s Travels. He took a shallow breath as memories of another time he’d seen the story overtook him. “Are you sure, Emma? It’s quite scary, and you’re going to bed soon.”
“I won’t be scared, Papa, I promise!” Emma wrapped her little arms around one of his and laid her head on Daniel’s shoulder.
“All right then. But only a couple of chapters. It’s late and we’re both exhausted.” Daniel feigned a yawn, which made Emma yawn, as well. She closed her bold, expressive, brown eyes, which were so much like her mother’s.
He opened the well-worn book and read the first lines. His quiet voice soothed his daughter, despite the frightening story line, and after a couple of chapters, she had fallen asleep. He kissed the top of her head, inhaled her clean, little girl scent, and held on tightly for a long moment before unwinding her arms from his and laying her on the narrow bed.
Jonathan Swift’s vivid imagination was no match for what Emma witnessed on a daily basis on Boston’s streets. She’d only been two years old when Gladys was shot, right in front of Emma. She had barely ceased crying over that enormous loss when they got evicted from their home and Pippa’s uncle and aunt took possession. Daniel’s wish for Emma was that she could grow up in peace. This protracted war showed no sign of ending, showed no sign of the Americans being the victors despite now having George Washington in charge of the troops. An army of rag-tag men who had only ever shot game was up against the finest military force in the world. What were their chances?
Daniel left his sleeping daughter and fell into his own bed on the opposite side of the room. Gladys’s parents had opened their hearts and their home to Emma and Daniel after the British took their home, but the house was small. Daniel was grateful he could count on them to care for Emma during his long voyages, but he still chafed he couldn’t give her daughter her own room. That he couldn’t spend more time with her. Each crossing of the Atlantic took months of his time and she appeared to grow stronger and taller with each trip he made. And now, he would be gone during the Christmas season. Not aboard a ship being tossed about on the high seas, but an even more perilous voyage, transporting cannons from upstate New York into Boston. The going would not be easy, and any attack by the British could easily wipe out the men transporting the equipment. It would be extremely difficult to quickly hide the cannons and oxen.
Seizing on an idea, he rose and left the darkened room, seeking out Gladys’s mother, Sarah. She had just finished drying the dishes from their supper. Her gaze snapped to Daniel as he entered the small kitchen and put an arm around her shoulder.
“Is our little one finally sleeping?” Sarah relaxed into his embrace.
“It only took a couple of chapters of her favorite book. She can recite the story by heart now.” Daniel laughed. “I need to discuss something with you and Brian.”
Sarah’s brow rose and the lines in her forehead deepened. “What is it?” She led them into the front room where her husband sat reading the paper.
“I have volunteered to help Colonel Knox transport the cannons to Boston, so I must leave here soon.” Daniel spread his hands.
Sarah and Brian shared a glance, then both shifted their attention to him. Brian nodded. “Sam told us about the undertaking during his last dinner here. All able-bodied men are being called upon. You do what you must. We’ll take care of Emma.”
Daniel scrubbed his cheeks. “I’ll most likely miss Christmas with her. Again. So I was hoping we could celebrate early. Would you mind if Emma and I decorate the house with pine boughs in November instead of next month?”
Sarah clapped her hands together. “What a delightful idea, Daniel. I’ll make all her favorite foods and she can help me make cookies. There’s no wrong time to celebrate. It’s not the day on the calendar that’s important. It’s who you’re sharing the day with.”
Daniel’s eyes clouded with tears. “Thank you both for your sacrifice. This isn’t the life Gladys and I planned.”
Brian rustled his paper. “But it’s the life we have, at least until the British bastards leave us. Only then can we consider a normal life again. We must all make sacrifices. You’re doing what you must for Emma’s sake, and we are aware of the peril you put yourself in on a daily basis. You and Sam, and all the Sons of Liberty, have our gratitude. America’s gratitude.”
Daniel shifted in his seat. His father-in-law would consider Pippa one of the British bastards, he supposed. And he’d nearly done the unthinkable with her. Even though the next couple of months would be exhausting work, he relished the opportunity to be apart from the temptation that was Pippa. Her father would see to her now. By the time Daniel returned to Boston, Pippa would have departed. Either taken back across the Atlantic against her will to marry the man she’d run from, or bound to one of the British officers here in America. She’d fallen short of her goal, but it was none of his concern. He had a country to save.
He returned to his bed and listened to his daughter’s breathing as she slept. Just as he had listened to Pippa’s breathing during the weeks they’d slept near each other in the cabin. Daniel closed his eyes as memories washed over him, of Pippa’s breathing turning into gasps and moans as he tortured her lips, caressed her breast, toyed with her sex bundle. He’d been living with the memory of Gladys and the sweet nights they’d spent in each other’s arms for four years. Now, those memories had been superseded with the memory of the steamy, volatile encounters he’d had with Pippa. There was nothing sweet about her. She was salty, spicy and totally sensuous. Every time he got within an arm’s length of her, he had to fight the urge to rip her clothes off and mount her, as if he were a dog in heat.
Yes, a few months away from her would readjust his perspective. He harbored no illusions about the harsh conditions he was about to endure. The biting cold temperatures would be what he needed to slake the fire that was Pippa.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“What do you mean, we can’t return to England until spring?” Pippa’s father’s voice rose with each word. “Lord Wolfson is awaiting my return with my wayward daughter so they can marry. I promised him I’d bring her home in short order.”
Walter sat behind his desk, with his hands folded together, waiting for the man to settle. Pippa sat next to her father, biting her tongue. Telling her father once again she would never marry Lord Wolfson would only fall on deaf ears. If running away to America didn’t underscore her abhorrence at the idea, her words certainly wouldn’t make an impression. She hoped Uncle Walter had a solution.
“Yelling at me won’t alter the situation, William.” Walter’s tone was quietly commanding, unlike Pippa’s father's whine. “The Atlantic sees very little activity during the winter months. It’s too dangerous. As a supply officer, I’ve become very aware if we don't have enough goods already delivered by November, we will perish by spring.”
“I’m afr
aid Lord Wolfson won’t wait. We must find a way. What about your young man who delivered the letter to me in the first place?” William modulated his voice, but Pippa noted the underscore of panic. He was desperate for the money Lord Wolfson had promised him in exchange for Pippa.
“Daniel, you mean?”
Pippa's head rose at the mention of Daniel’s name. What an irony it would be to return on the same ship she’d stowed away on. If she had to cross the Atlantic again on Daniel’s ship, she would not be a virgin once she got to England. Even her father’s presence aboard ship couldn’t stop the explosiveness between herself and Daniel. She laced her fingers together and held her tongue. Lord Wolfson wouldn’t want her then. Perhaps spending weeks aboard ship with Daniel would be a good plan.
Her father nodded. “If that’s the man’s name, yes. Is his ship available? I’ll charter it myself.”
Walter shook his head. “His main sail mast broke off on his last trip and his ship is in the harbor, undergoing extensive repairs. I’m afraid he won’t be available.” Walter gave William a long look. “I do hope you put your affairs in London in order before you set sail. You’re about to experience a Massachusetts winter.”
William sputtered. “There must be a way. Lord Wolfson won’t wait that long.”
Pippa stood abruptly, and the men followed. “If we’re to be here for an entire winter, Aunt Bernice and I must go shopping for warmer clothes. I’ll leave you, gentlemen.”
William laid a hand on her arm. “There will be no need, Pippa. You have plenty of warm clothing back in London, and I will find a way for us to return posthaste.” His gaze caught hers. “There’s no need to spend money which I don’t have.”
She shrugged and peeled his hand from her arm. “Lord Wolfson won’t pay for a bride who has perished during a storm over the Atlantic, Father. Uncle Walter is aware of the hazardous conditions of the Atlantic Ocean during the winter months, which is why he ceases his supply operation in November. We must wait until spring, as he says.”
Pippa stopped outside the doorway to the study and sucked in a long breath. Uncle Walter could be her savior if he could convince her father not to travel abroad until Spring. She only needed a few more months and then she could do as she pleased. And what she pleased did not include marriage to Lord Wolfson.
She didn’t really want to go shopping with Aunt Bernice, either. What she wanted was to find Daniel, head back to his cabin on board the ship and continue what he had started. She wanted to learn all the ways they could pleasure each other. If only she could see him again, taste his lips, feel his hands roaming over her, grasp his hard shaft and toy with it. Where was the man, anyway? Why had he not called on her in the past week? They had unfinished business.
She made her way to her room and lay on the bed. Thoughts of Daniel and their interrupted lovemaking coursed through her mind. She became damp between her legs as she relived how Daniel had lapped up her moisture as if he were a cat licking cream. When he took her little bundle of nerves into his mouth and sucked on it, she thought she’d experienced true nirvana. Her fingers dipped under her skirts and she toyed with herself, much as Daniel had done. Massaging her sex button took her to a climax, but it wasn’t nearly as intense as what she’d experienced with Daniel.
Her breathing slowed, and she studied the ceiling. Where was he? Aunt Bernice had orchestrated several dinner parties since the new shipment of soldiers had set foot in Boston, and she’d met several good-looking men at those meals. But when she compared them to Daniel, it didn’t matter how handsome they were, each man lost in the side-by-side comparison. It was nearly December, and Bernice was planning several gatherings to celebrate the holiday season, which meant more time to spend with the troops. And possibly Daniel, who had been issued an invitation. At least the hope he’d show for the Christmas parties gave her something to look forward to. If she wore a fine gown, would he again be tempted to rip it off her body and take her? Make her his? Her breath became short, and she approached giddiness at the thought of Daniel losing control and tearing her clothes off.
She was not jesting about her need to go shopping. She pleasured herself once again before rising to find Bernice and arrange an excursion. All her own ministrations did was take the edge off. She really needed Daniel’s provocative mouth to fulfill her. And after the rush of lovemaking, to share a cheroot with him.
Where was he?
• ♥ •
Pippa desperately craved a cheroot, but her father and Uncle Walter stayed in the study for hours after she left them, so there was no chance to pilfer one. She paced the floor of the small bedroom until finally her father’s footsteps clattered as he climbed the stairs and slammed the door on the room opposite hers.
Holding her breath, she cracked open the door to her room and waited for the light go out under the door opposite. She slid into the hallway and descended the stairs, taking care on the third step from the top. When she made it to the landing, she breathed a bit easier. The door to the study was closed, but the door had not been locked, so she opened it wide enough to get through, and silently entered the room.
And came face to face with her uncle!
His gaze rose from the book he had been reading and stared at her. “Pippa. Why are you skulking around at this late hour?”
“I—I couldn’t sleep, and thought a book would help. I hope you don’t mind.” Pippa’s gaze flitted about the room before she gave her uncle one of her debutante smiles.
He rose and took her hand, leading her to a chair. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”
She forced down the bubble of fear threatening to choke her. Her uncle would find a way to send her and her father home, regardless of the weather. And she did not yet have enough knowledge about this country to run away again. She took a deep breath, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for the sentence.
“I don’t appreciate being lied to, Pippa.” Uncle Walter took a cheroot from his cigar box and lit it, making her mouth water. Her fingers started to fidget.
“I’m sorry, Uncle. But you have to comprehend my dire circumstances.” Pippa held out a grain of hope.
“From what I gather, your father is desperate for money and your suitor has a deep purse. Do I have my facts straight?”
Pippa nodded. “Did Father also tell you the gentleman suitor is older than he is?”
“So it wouldn’t take you long to make him die a happy man and you’d be a wealthy woman.” Uncle Walter sucked on his cheroot and released a cloud of smoke into the room. “Had you considered that possible outcome?”
Pippa inhaled the scent of tobacco, but instead of having it calm her as it usually did, she became more agitated. The thought of sharing her body with Lord Wolfson made her squirm. “That is one way of looking at the situation, I guess.” She squinted through the smoke. “But it would not have made me happy.”
“And your happiness is all you care about, correct? You paid no heed to your father’s desperate circumstances.”
Pippa rose and paced around the room. “Well, he paid no heed to my feelings. He was willing to sell me off to the highest bidder, regardless of what I thought of the man. I had no choice.”
“Sit down, for God’s sake. You’re making me dizzy with your pacing.” Uncle Walter motioned to her chair and rubbed his leg.
“Are you sending me back to England?”
He took his time with his answer. He puffed on his cheroot and knocked the ashes off the tip before raising his gaze to her. He motioned to the chair again with his cheroot, and she plopped into it, all the starch gone from her body.
“America is a dangerous place for a young woman to be.”
“England is no safer—for me, at least.”
Her uncle shrugged. He closed the book he’d been reading when she entered. “I was not joking when I said there will be no travel across the Atlantic until spring.”
Pippa breathed again.
“However, in early March you will s
till be under age and your father has every right to force you to return and marry the man of his choice.”
Pippa wrung her hands together.
Her uncle rose from behind his desk, and Pippa surmised the discussion had ended. At least, from her uncle’s point of view. She lifted her gaze to him.
“But...”
“There’s nothing I can do, Pippa, to change the facts. The only way you can avoid marriage to Lord Wolfson is to marry someone here in America. Has anyone caught your fancy?” He peered at her before grinding out the cigar.
There was one man who not only had caught her fancy, but who had taken her to heights of ardor she’d never experienced before. But she couldn’t very well tell her uncle what Daniel had done to her.
“No, sir. None yet.”
“Well, we do have the Christmas season coming up. Your aunt has a lot of parties planned. Perhaps you’ll find someone there.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “You took a huge risk, boarding a ship bound for the colonies. You were fortunate to have chosen well. Daniel Simmons is a good man. I shudder to think what could have happened had you chosen differently. And I’m well aware you would not have taken the risk if you felt you had any other option. I hope the holidays will yield a young man that fits the bill.”
They exited the room together and Pippa retraced her steps back to her room. Her uncle had given her a lot to mull over. She desperately needed to get married quickly. But marriage to the wrong man would not be wise, regardless of whether she was in the colonies or in England. If something could delay her departure to England, she’d be of age by the end of March, and could claim her inheritance and her freedom. She could go where she wished, be the woman she truly wished to be.